When Death and All His Angels Find You
by LordXwee
Summary: Pascal Trevelyan liked to think he was a noble man who could make a noble sacrifice. When it comes down to Stroud or Hawke to stay in the Fade to fight the nightmare demon, he knew there had to be a third option.
1. Part 1

So my Xbox profile got corrupted and deleted itself, which in turn deleted my 3rd Inquisition playthrough that I had 35+ hours on. I can't get it back and to deal with this loss, I wrote some sad fic about my Inquisitor, Pascal Trevelyan. This is set pre-grove romance scene with Cassandra and during the end of the Here Lies the Abyss quest. Fic title is from _Oh Death_ by Noah Gundersen, cover image was drawn by me.

* * *

This wasn't the first time Pascal was ever in the Fade. He had passed his Harrowing and he'd like to think he was a rather talented mage. Hell, he even chose to specialize in rift magic. But this was the first time he was entering it physically, the other time he couldn't bring himself to remember. All he did remember was a sense of security, a blessed feeling, that the Maker had chosen him to survive and save the world.

Too bad he knew that wasn't true.

When he learned that a demented darkspawn magister was the one who accidentally gave him his powers, he tried to play it off. He would laugh and say the Maker worked in mysterious ways. He was the Herald of Andraste, anyway. That's what everyone thought, that's what he believed, even when his faith had faltered. Now his faith was broken. The Maker didn't choose him. Andraste didn't lead him out of the Fade. It was just a spirit masquerading as Divine Justinia who happened to save him.

Pascal had brought his normal team with him; Varric, Cassandra, and Iron Bull, along with the new additions of the Champion of Kirkwall and Stroud. Each of his companions were dealing with their Fade journey in their own ways, and Pascal was kidding around as he always had. He had to hide what he was feeling inside.

"Never thought the Fade would have so many spiders," Pascal said, "I imagined something a bit scarier from a nightmare demon."

"You're lucky you're only seeing _spiders_ ," Iron Bull replied.

As they explored, Pascal had found a small graveyard. Spookily enough, each tombstone was marked with each of his companions' names and their fears. Became His Parents. Helplessness. Madness. He had wondered where his tombstone was, what his fear would say. Perhaps disappointment? He had always worried his magic abilities would look bad on his very Chantry-driven family. It made him determined to master his powers. Or maybe he didn't want to disappoint others, like Cassandra. She looked at him with such admiration, a feeling he had shared for her. Well, he had a lot more feelings for her, he just never had the chance to put it in the right words. He could be running out of time to say them, which was another fear.

They had reached what seemed like the end. The demon had taunted them all this way, and even with the spirit's help, Pascal had felt numb. As the team fought the aspect of the demon, it was hard for him to form coherent thoughts. Everything felt automated, like his body was twirling his staff and causing blizzards without much of his own effort. Things slowed down and he took extra time to watch the others fight.

Iron Bull threw his weight into each swing, wanting to carve out a piece of the monster while trying to forget he was physically in the Fade. On a turn within a whirlwind attack, Bull would always take a cautious glance at Pascal and Varric and make sure the ranged fighters were safe. Varric also kept an eye on the whole battlefield, sending bolts to creatures who were trying to flank them or attack from afar. Cassandra focused her righteous fury on the main aspect of the nightmare demon, and cared little for the danger around her. Pascal waved his hand and a magic barrier washed over her. That always made him feel a little better.

The person he had found surprisingly interesting was Hawke. He didn't really know how he was going to get along with her. He certainly heard rumors that she and her husband were pretty pro-templar, and she was more of a do-gooder when Pascal could be silly, but Hawke was never rude to him. She just looked world-weary, a feeling he didn't fully understand until right now. She had the same type of huge axe that Bull used, and she definitely had the same type of skill with the weapon, but her moves were slightly slower. Like she was carrying more weight than just a huge axe that Pascal probably couldn't even pick up.

With the combined efforts of the team, there were able to subdue the aspect of the demon. Pascal used the last of his strength to throw a stonefist at the monster, shattering it into the Fade. An exit from the Fade opened and they all started rushing towards it. Varric and Iron Bull slipped through first, while Cassandra worriedly looked back towards Pascal.

"Go," he said, with a comforting smile, "I'm right behind you."

Cassandra nodded seriously and went back into the real world. He would have followed her like he promised, but the nightmare demon had not been so easily defeated. A gigantic spider-looking thing crossed their paths, preventing them from exiting. Pascal, Hawke, and Stroud all looked at each other. _Shit,_ Pascal thought, _I went ahead and jinxed it, didn't I?_

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he said, "But I don't think that thing will let us pass."

"I can deal with it," Hawke said with her brow furrowed. Pascal thought of what Varric would say to that, if he hadn't already made it.

"No," Stroud said valiantly, his sword gripped tightly in his hand, "I cannot bare to think this all came from the Grey Warden's involvement. I will be the one to take it down, and redeem my order's name."

"The Grey Wardens were wrongly manipulated into doing this. Their faults should not be something you have to bear, Stroud," Hawke countered.

"Well I know how to break a stalemate," Pascal said, "I'll do it."

Hawke and Stroud looked at him like he was crazy. They both tried to object but Pascal raised his hand, the one with the mark, and smiled softly.

"I'm the Herald of Andraste," Pascal said with fake confidence, "And I must admit I have some more Fade experience than either of you two. I know I can do this. If things can tough, I'll just open another rift and hop on out of here."

"Can you do that?" Stroud asked.

 _No. The mark usually closes, not opens._ "Sure."

Hawke, the most pessimistic one out of the trio, said, "And what if you can't?" He briefly wondered if she was actually pessimistic or just easily saw through his façade. Her question was a hard one. Pascal had definite doubt in his mind that this was possible. They all knew the one staying behind was the one sacrificing themselves, but no one wanted to say it. But Pascal wasn't the Herald of Andraste he said he was. He was the guy that was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Did the Maker put him there? He had no idea. The one thing he did know was that the Inquisitor could've been anybody, and it ended up being him. He used his power to build the best damn organization he had ever seen. Cullen's soldiers, Josephine's diplomats, and Leliana's spies - they could do anything now, with or without him. He had been a symbol of hope as the Herald. He was going to continue being a symbol of hope, but as a martyr.

"Then I don't," he put it simply, "and the Inquisition goes on without me. Don't let them lose their purpose, even though I know they won't. Make sure Varric writes a good book about me. And tell Cass," Oh Maker, what should he say? That he loved her? Was that too forward? He hadn't said it to her in person yet, he didn't think she'd appreciate it coming from Hawke. "Tell her I'm sorry."

Pascal drew his staff and sent a bolt of ice at the spider's face. He began to run and draw the beast away from Stroud and Hawke. It obliged, seeing the Inquisitor as a tasty snack, and moved to allow the other two to escape. Seeing them make it and the portal close behind them was strangely comforting. He knew he was doing the right thing.

* * *

Thanks for reading. I hope to have a follow-up chapter by the end of the week.


	2. Part 2

Pascal had to admit he wasn't always the best of fighters. He tended to forget he was the mage of the party and would rush in to attack. Luckily his warriors would get there before him and prevent any such massacres. This time he was completely alone and was still going to rush in to attack. He placed a barrier over himself and tossed another stonefist into one of the nightmare spider's eyes. It cried out an unnatural scream and shook its head. Well at least he knew that hurt it.

"I'm surprised Inquisitor," the demon's voiced boomed, causing Pascal to stop in his tracks. "I didn't think you would do this."

"Oh?" Pascal asked, "I guess I'm full of surprises then."

"You fought hard for your Inquisition, yet now you abandon them in their greatest time of need. This is not Haven. You shall not rise again. Choosing to die here means I get to cut off the head of the snake, and destroy the Inquisition."

"I think the rest of my friends may disagree with that," Pascal turned his staff and send bolts of ice at the creature, but this time it did not flinch, "They will be able to go on without me."

"Perhaps you have forgotten Haven. Did they not squabble like children when you were gone the first time? They will dissolve to infighting just as they have before, however now it is due to your cowardice to surrender to me."

"I'd call it a gallant sacrifice actually."

"Or is it a selfish one? Stroud was willing to sacrifice himself for his order. You took that glory away from him. Hawke was ready to sacrifice herself for you. You took away her chance at peace. What do you hope to gain, Inquisitor?"

That was a tough question, as expected from a demon trying to manipulate him. Pascal wasn't really thinking of gaining anything. He was saving two amazing people from making this choice. Stroud would earn more helping to rebuild the Grey Wardens, and Hawke already had experience as a leader. She may be tired of it, but she could do it. Pascal didn't take anything from them, he was gifting them opportunities. Instead of a response, Pascal shifted and tried to hit the demon with a winter's grasp, but it still didn't seem too harmed. Damn his choice to be an ice mage, it never affected spirits as much.

"No answer, hmm?" the demon said, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Can't you read my mind? If not, then that's a bit underwhelming for an all-knowing nightmare demon."

"Your humor doesn't do you any credit, Inquisitor," the demon said without any of that previous amusement, "It is a weak excuse for your fear."

"Humor's a common coping mechanism, but usually people just call me a smart ass," Pascal shrugged. "And can you transform into something that's a little more fightable than a gigantic spider thing?"

"Your wish is my command, Inquisitor."

Oh no. Did he just make a deal with a demon? Pretty sure that's rule number one in things not to do as a mage. The demon did oblige, its spider like form glowing green and shrinking down to a smaller size. Pascal had to shield his eyes from the light, and when he put his arm down, a ghostly version of Cassandra stood in front of him. He instantly knew it wasn't really her, even though he so desperately wished it would be. The slight glow around her gave off the hint that she wasn't real too. It reminded him of the bad future he saw with Dorian.

"Is this what you wanted, Inquisitor?" the demon said in a voice that was close to Cassandra's but still garbled. The demon drew her sword, a replica of the one Pascal had Harritt build especially for her. "Do you want to fight me now?"

Pascal didn't lower his weapon. "Not particularly."

The Cassandra demon strode towards him and Pascal didn't make a move to attack. He should have done it. Taking down a human shaped thing is a lot easier than taking down a spider shaped one. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wondered if it was his own weakness, or if the demon was physically manipulating him. The Cassandra demon didn't attack him, it just stood directly in front of him.

"Do you have anything to say, Inquisitor?" it said, "To her."

Well yeah, he had a lot of things to say.

* * *

Cassandra stumbled out of the breach in the Fade. Varric and Iron Bull had already made it through, and were watching with anxious looks to see the fate of the rest of them. She got up on her feet and did the same. Pascal and the others were trailing a bit behind them, so it made sense that they were taking some extra time to get here.

"That's a place I never want to see again," Iron Bull grunted.

"You don't have to say that twice," Varric replied.

She agreed with them as well, but didn't say anything. It felt like too much had happened in such a short period of time. They had traveled into a place they should never have physically gone, and learned the dark truth of what really happened at the Conclave. Finally learning the truth of a long mystery was not always a good thing, as she thought about the Rite of Tranquility. Seeing Divine Justinia, or a spirit, or whatever that was, definitely shook her. But now the most important thing was seeing Pascal walk out of there. When she saw another person begin to materialize, she was overjoyed. Then she saw that it wasn't the Inquisitor.

Stroud and Hawke came out of the Fade, both with dark expressions on their faces. Stroud wouldn't meet her eyes and Hawke looked crushed. They didn't say anything as they walked towards the group. And they didn't say anything when the portal closed behind them.

"Pascal?" she whispered, mostly to herself, "Where's Pascal? Where's the Inquisitor?"

Stroud still wouldn't look up. Hawke had more courage than that and faced Cassandra, but didn't respond either. There wasn't anything to say. They walked out and he didn't. Cassandra refused to accept that. Anger and fear flooded her emotions and she got up in Hawke's face.

"Where is the Inquisitor?" Cassandra demanded.

"He chose to stay," Hawke said. She was unfazed by Cassandra's approach, so Cassandra grabbed a handful of Hawke's collar.

Varric stepped forward. "Seeker-"

"Stay out of it, Varric," Cassandra warned him, then turned back to Hawke, "What do you mean he chose to stay? Why isn't he with you?"

"The demon wasn't defeated," Hawke said coldly, "It blocked our way out, so he offered to be a distraction in order for us to escape. And that's what we did."

Cassandra didn't know what to say. She certainly didn't loosen her grip on Hawke's shirt. She had lost Galyan at the Conclave, she couldn't lose Pascal here. He said he was right behind her. "You could have helped him."

"And have us all die? Neither of us forced him to do this, Seeker. In fact, Stroud and I both offered to stay ourselves but he wouldn't have it."

"You don't know that… that he's dead. He could still be in the Fade, no? You didn't see the demon kill him."

Stroud looked up for once, "He mentioned his ability with the rifts-"

Hawke shook her head. "He was lying to make us leave. He doesn't know how to get out and he knew that when he told us."

Cassandra tossed Hawke aside and began to pace. "He's still in there. We will get Solas, and maybe Cole…"

"An apostate and another demon aren't going to fix this. The Inquisitor is dead."

Those words rang in her head. _Dead_. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. Pascal had flirted with her quite a few times, but she knew it wasn't just some playful thing. He cared about her and she cared about him. They just never said it. She wanted a fairytale romance like the ones she read in Varric's stupid books. Pascal Trevelyan was a noble man. He would have given that to her. Cassandra thought she had been too cold, she should have been more accepting of his advances, maybe things would have been different… but now he was dead. Cassandra sunk to her knees, not quite knowing what to do.

"He, uh, asked us to say a few words," Stroud mentioned quietly.

"What were they?" Varric asked because Cassandra wasn't capable of doing so. Hawke answered instead of Stroud.

"He said that the Inquisition should go on in his memory. That we should continue its purpose, and beat the damn creature that caused all of this. I know I'll try. I won't let his sacrifice be in vain, and I know all of you will try just as hard because you've already poured so much into this organization. I think he believed the Inquisition was more than only one person and we're going to prove that to Corypheus when we kill him."

The area was deathly silent. Hawke's words had power, but it was hard to be motivated when their leader had perished. It reminded her when Haven had collapsed and they all thought Pascal was dead the first time. They hadn't been as close back then, but she couldn't remember being happier than the moment she saw that he was alive. Except he wasn't coming back this time.

"Cassandra," Stroud said softly. She looked up at him, "He… he also said to tell you that he was sorry."

She wished an apology was enough to bring him back.

* * *

"You do pretty good impressions, you know," Pascal said, "You'd be a hit at children's parties."

The Cassandra demon scowled. It was an expression he knew quite well from her, one that he had found endearing. "You're not being serious, Inquisitor."

"I rarely am. And Cass would call me by my first name, if you want to feel realistic."

"Fine, _Pascal,_ " the demon said, "I want you to tell me what you'd say to her."

Pascal took a deep breath. Why not tell the truth? It's not like this was going to get broadcasted across Thedas. It was just him, alone in the Fade, before he most likely died. Perhaps it would actually feel best to get some stuff off his chest.

"I'd say that I was sorry, although I hope Stroud and Hawke already did. I'd say I wish I was right behind her. I'd say I'd hope she understand that I couldn't leave people to die. Isn't that what a leader is supposed to be about? Sacrifice and all that? Anyways." Pascal paused. This was hard, because it felt too final. He had to keep going. "I'd say that I was serious when I flirted with her, it wasn't just me being a dork as always. I would have been so good to her. I would have wrote her poetry that would've put Varric to shame. I would have loved her. And that she doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve to have someone she love die, again. I hope that rage doesn't consume her like it did before, that it doesn't make her do reckless things, and that she's safe."

The demon smiled. It probably would've clapped too if it didn't have her sword in its hand. "Very good, Pascal."

He bowed. "Right from the heart."

"Would you sacrifice yourself for her, Pascal?"

Pascal smiled a little. "I already have."

The demon nodded, apparently pleased with the answer and without much warning it swung forward, slicing the sword diagonally across Pascal's chest. Even though mage robes looked pretty cool, they didn't offer any protection. He had no chance to pull up another barrier either. Pascal shakily brought up a hand to his chest and felt where the sword had cut him so easily. Blood started to leak through his wound and all over his hand.

"Oh," Pascal said and fell to the ground. He didn't know how to stop the blood. "G-guess I should've paid more attention in healing class." He coughed a thick, wet cough which brought up more blood. The demon stood over him with a curious expression on its face.

"Humans are weaker than I thought," it said.

"You'll eat those words wh-when we defeat you," Pascal said. His vision blurred slightly and he started to feel numb. "Plus we have a pretty buff Qunari on our side too."

The demon scoffed, just like Cassandra would've, and tossed its sword down at Pascal's side. It knew he was in no power to use it, he couldn't even bring himself to use magic. What was the name he and Harritt gave the sword? Maker's Fury or something? He always thought naming swords was funny, but Cassandra appreciated it.

"You aren't going to defeat us, Inquisitor. You've already lost," the demon said and turned to walk away. For a brief moment he wanted to call out for her to stop. He wanted it to actually be Cassandra when he turned around. She'd rush to him, maybe swearing in her native language and calling him a fool for being the reckless one this time. Varric and Bull would be behind her, juggling health potions in their arms. He would be fine with his team around him, except this time he was alone.

Pascal blinked slowly and eventually shut his eyes. The pain had been hot throughout his body but now the numbness was stronger. Dying didn't feel as bad as he thought it would. He could only hope he made the right decision. He couldn't handle the Inquisition dying with him. They had messed with so many of Corypheus's plans already, there was no way he could still bring about that bad future he saw with Dorian.

The anchor on the Inquisitor's hand pulsated. It sent out green flashes of light, like a last call for help, but no one was coming. It flashed a few more times and then the light slowly died out, leaving Pascal in a dark corner of the Fade.

* * *

And that's it! Thanks for reading, guys.


End file.
